The Way It Should Be
by Vaughn's Jenn
Summary: *7* Post THE TELLING--S/V Romance/Angst ~A Jennfic~
1. Hateful Tears

**The Way it Should Be**

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_Despite the amazing-ness of the season finale, my shipper side has to write this to relieve some of the tension._

_Sorry in advance if the final product turns out to be extremely unrealistic or cheesy._

_As of this moment, I do not know what words will come out of my mind but I know that I have to let them come or writhe in agony until the season premiere._

_LONG LIVE THE S/V LOVING!!!!!_

_*NOTE: despite this story, I DO believe that Vaughn stupidly **did get married. ::tear::**_

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1.

"Vaughn… why are you wearing that ring?" Her voice was soft, scared.

His heart broke despite his wonderment at seeing her again as he allowed his eyes to roam around her face again, this time making sure that he was aware of how lucky he truly was to be able to look at her. It was almost as if another person had taken control of his body as he saw his arm lifting slowly to her face.

Tears crept down and slid down to his chin in a noiseless stream as he fell onto his knees in front of her, his hands cradling her face. "Oh Syd… Sydney…" He closed his eyes as he lightly traced her cheekbones and the contours of her face. 

He felt the fear coursing through her as she lifted him up, scared of why he should be on the floor. "Vaughn… what's going on?" There was wariness in her voice. It was almost as it he could hear the tears trembling in her eyes, threatening to brim and fall over at any moment. 

"Oh my God Sydney… I can't believe you're here right now. I- I- you were missing. Everyone thought you were dead Sydney."

"Dead? I called headquarters."

He loved her for the confusion that sparked in her eyes and slowly allowed himself to start believing in this truth, that she was not some apparition that appeared to him as she did sometimes in the loneliest of nights. She was true and tangible and crying before him.

"Syd… you've been missing. You have been missing for almost two years."

Shock was written all over her face as she took in his words and tried to let them sink in. "T-two years?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling another teardrop make its way down his cheek. "My God Sydney… I knew you couldn't be dead; I knew that you wouldn't leave me. I couldn't move on."

Chills ran up his neck as he felt her touch for the first time in two years. Her fingers lightly smoothing away his tears seemed to be more than he could take. 

He caught her fingers and brought them to his lips, letting the skin of them linger on his mouth. "I wish I had told you before Syd. I wish you had been able to know during whatever you went through."

"Know what?"

"That I love you."

And that was when the truth completely sunk in and she realized the words that he was saying. The meaning of them arrested her motion and she sat still in a daze, her arms falling from his face down to her sides as they rested on the bed.

He looked up at her them, scared by her sudden lack of movement. Her eyes were fixed on his ring, her mouth was open in a tiny "o" and all he could do was beg her internally to look back up into his eyes.   
  
As if that would somehow make everything alright. 

"I've been gone for two years?" The question was spoken from the mouth of a dead woman- the shock had somehow taken the life from her and when she finally shook her head free, it was to look down at his left hand. 

Her own hand lifted until it lay only a few inches from his own and then landed gently only on the ring, as if she was scared to touch any of his skin. As if she was afraid of him.

Lifting her head, her eyes were closed in silent suffering, hot tears finding their way under her eyelids to come out into the open and into plain view as they dropped down the sides of her face. Her next question came in a whisper. "Who is she?"

The answer swelled in his throat; it should have been so simple to say but the name lodged itself in his throat so that it constricted and he was rendered unable to speak. 

Her delicate fingers left the band and returned to the mattress, clasping the metal frame with a tightness that he could not help but wonder at. She was trying, he knew, to keep a hold onto reality despite the fact that two years of her life had passed her by. The tears kept coming and she silently shook with inner sorrow.

He hated himself for being frozen, for staying on the ground on his knees like a fool merely because he still couldn't believe her eyes.

He opened his mouth tentatively, willing himself to speak the words that were for some reason so hard to say. His hands rested lightly on her for just a moment before they were jerked away from him. 

And then he was only subject to the red glare of her bloodshot eyes. "Don't answer that question Vaughn. I don't want to know anymore." Her voice shook.

"Just let me ask you one thing. _Why?_ It wasn't even two years and- how could you find someone to replace me so quickly?" Her eyes begged him to contradict her words. "How long did you search for me? How long did it take you to lose hope?"

Her gaze slid back down to her tightly clasped hands in her lap. The questions came slowly, steadily without the frenzy that should have accompanied them. "When did you find her and how long did it take you to love her?" She paused, taking a breath, and he saw the light glinting on a tear that fell from her down turned face onto the floor. "When did you decide to give up on _me and marry __her?"_

He shook his head but his mind was still unable to form any coherent thoughts. "My God Sydney… I can't believe you're here."

Her hair flew around her head as she flung her head back up. "It's me Vaughn. Were you hoping I was still dead? Were you hoping that you would still be in the right doing what you did? Because it allowed you to love somebody else and call it _moving on_?"

He found his voice.

"No. Sydney, you don't understand what I'm trying to say-"

"I _want_ to hear what you're trying to say Michael. So say it. My life is already destroyed; it has been living without me for the past two years. Everything has managed to move on and my existence in this _world_ has become extraneous so anything you want to say, say it now. I can't think of any way I could possible be hurting more."

If he hadn't had tears brimming in his eyes already, they would have come now. He brought his hand to her cheek. "Sydney, I could never hurt you. You are… the one thing in my life that I could never see hurting for any reason."

She shook her head, her skin still in contact with his palm. "You're hurting me right now. You're just like everyone else… you've moved on. The best thing for you to do right now is to sit down at the other side of the room. As far away from me as you can. Tell me what happened to the remnants of my life and the people I used to know. And then open the door and leave; I'll be behind you."

He slid the ring off his finger and placed in into her palm.

"Michael, what are you doing? Trying to rub it in that I'm not yours anymore? That you now belong, _heart body and soul_, to someone else?" She looked up with tearing eyes and the expression of someone who truly was out of place in the world. "Please leave."

"Sydney-" he swallowed the lump in his throat, hating himself for the suffering he was needlessly causing her because of his own inabilities. "Sydney- I'm not married."

**TBC…**

Jenn is back!!! After two hellish weeks of writer's block, inspiration finally hit! *Thank goodness… I was beginning to think that Gracie (my muse) was dead*

**Umm… do you want me to keep going? I do have a plot lurking around in my head so let me know if I have an audience~**

**Anyone reading this at all?**** Worth it to go on? **

**Danke**** for any feed back in advance, you guys have no idea how much support that it gives and the inspiration it spurs.**

**~jENnIFer**


	2. Shards of Glass

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The Way It Should Be

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Oh my god people… I can't believe you guys are actually reading! Thanks so much, your support has given me inspiration to pop out the next chapter… hope you enjoy it~

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2.

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Flashback

The strange thing was that he actually felt like whistling as he made his way up the small path towards the door. It was strange having that emotion there hanging over him… only it wasn't hanging; if anything it _floated_ over him. 

He hadn't felt this peaceful in a long time. It was as if he was finally sure of his place in the world. His place with her.

Michael knocked on the door, pressing his weight back on his heels, barely able to suppress the soft smile that overcame his features as he waited for her to come out with that slight glint in her eye that made him strain to believe that there had ever been any sadness in her life at all. It was nice to believe that he was the cause of her smiles.

Santa Barbara was waiting with its cool breeze and the balcony that was already calling their name from the top floor of the hotel. La Superica. Beach-side. He had been there three times so far but always on business and had always wondered what it would be like to be on the top. What it would be like to have a reason to ask for the room on the top floor, the one with its icy marble balcony and the lightweight white curtains… what it would be like to have someone so special that that would be the only room that would be able to suit.

And now he had it. 

Brow furrowing slightly, he rang the doorbell, wondering if at least Francie would answer if Syd was busy primping or packing. 

After a few more moments, his forehead wrinkled with an emotion that he could not yet identify. For some reason there was a fear that gripped his heart even though he knew that Sydney was perfectly able to take care of herself. Something told him that things were not right.

All thoughts of Santa Barbara flew from his mind as he turned to count the cars in the driveway. 

It was then that he noticed the way the light bounced off a shard of glass lying there peacefully on the grass. He stepped off the stairs and bent down to pick it up only to find that there were many more pieces of glass littering the small yard, making it sparkle with a kind of gruesome beauty.

He followed the trail until he reached the window at the side of the apartment and stopped. It was as if all emotion had been drained from him. He lifted a hand to the jagged edges of what once had been a window and lightly ran a finger over the scraped edges as if doing so would somehow bring Sydney running back to him.

He pulled his finger back as he felt the sudden prick of pain run through his body and end as a spot of pure red blood dotting his finger. With that blood staring back at him, he suddenly remembered what it was and total panic overcame him and he looked through into the room and saw the destruction that lay there waiting for him to see.

Swallowing hard, he backed away, filled with an urgency that he only ever felt in those lonely nights when she was on duty in some foreign country… too far for him to hold or comfort. Those nights where he was unable to sleep, as if his blinking eyes and haggard breathing could keep her alive somehow. 

He found himself and rushed towards the door, turning the knob for the first time. The door gently swung open and the whole picture was staring him in the face. Nothing was hidden, not the shards of glass and china that were scattered across the wooden floor, not the broken table and the clear indications of a fight that had used the entire house as its terrain, not the sole lamp that stood in the middle of the room, as upright as it ever had been shining its light in the dimness of the room.

Michael's barely beating yet simultaneously jumping heart stilled as he saw a puddle of liquid on the floor but as he took a step towards it, he saw that it was light brown. Upon sniffing it, he discovered that it was coffee ice cream. 

"Syd?" His voice was wary and broken even as his body tensed now in waiting. If Sydney wasn't here and her attacker still was… he stood upright, grabbed a hold of his cell phone and pressed speed dial #4. 

"Kendall."

"This is Agent Vaughn, I am at Agent Bristow's house and there seems to be serious disturbance- a fight—I don't know exactly. I need men here right now."

There was a hesitation that conveyed a thousand unasked questions before Kendall's voice came through again. "Done."

"Soon. As fast as you can."

"I'm aware of what 'soon' is, Agent Vaughn. ETA 15 minutes."

He hung up but, on a whim, pressed another button. And heard the familiar resulting sound of Sydney's cell phone ring coming from the room; he pulled out his gun from his shoulder holster before bending down to pick up the ringing object.

Turning his own phone off, he quickly dialed the number to access Sydney's messages. Hoping against hope that there was something there. 

As it rang in his ear, he slowly made his way to the hallway, striding in long steps while his heart screamed. 

One message was from a Mary Beth. He attached the headphones to the phone before proceeding.

The bedroom door had been kicked; he could see the splinters that ran along the length of it, ending in a jagged edge that for some reason put the fear of God into him. He dialed the next number as he took a deep breath and entered the doorway. Despite what he had already seen, the state of the room shocked him and still managed to spread a thrill of fear throughout his system. 

But not more than the sight of Francie Calfo lying strewn on the grown in a mangled heap. Clenching his jaw in order to keep it from dropping, he raced towards her side, noting the beads of sweat that dotted her face along with the blood that spattered and spread from three large bullet holes. As if she had been exercising at the time of death.

When Will's harried voice entered his ears from the headphones, his blood turned to ice. "Syd… I know you're not going to believe this but… I just found _provacillium_ in the **_bathroom_**." His fingers trembled as the pieces came together and, almost jerking, he stepped away from her body. 

Francie had been the double. He couldn't believe the irony. _"I want Francie to be assigned to a protective detail. If Sloane is targeting my friends, she could be next."_

His head whipped around, tracing the battle with his mind and his eyes, looking at the destruction that skewed the room until the saw the mirror. 

The jagged pieces scattered across the polished wood. And made a clear outline of a body.

His arms began to tremble as he realized that Sydney was not in the house, not any longer. Kneeling down, he touched his hand to the spot where her body had lain.

It was still warm.

His body was already compartmentalizing the emotions that raged his system as he began to lose control. The gun dropped from his limp fingers as he realized that the enemy, the danger, was not in the house anymore. The last strains of Will's message began to die away. "Just listen to me… I think that the double is Fran-" 

There was a beep.

End of messages.

He heard the distant sound of cars parking in front of the house. And though he had only walked through two of the rooms, the deepest portions of his heart told him that there was no use. Every single room would be in the same state of despair. Every single room would be empty of the one thing he was looking for. 

Slumping towards the bed, he placed his head in his hands, eyes shut tightly in complete denial of what had been so rudely snatched away from him.

But at the sound of guns cocking and the door being pushed open, he stood, his eyes suddenly dry. Bending, he picked up the gun and walked out of the room and away from the stiffening body. He had to find her and it was not too late. 

And even if it was, it wouldn't matter. Because eventually he would find her; that's how the story had to end. Otherwise, it wasn't over. She was waiting for him.

As he walked out into the yard and ended up face to face with Jack Bristow, his gaze told him everything he needed to know. Jack's shoulders visibly fell and he stopped moving for a second.

"Agent Vaughn, what happened?" Kendall's voice was behind him.

"Will Tippin was not the double; Francie Calfo was."

Jack's surprise was nearly audible.

"Tippin found provacillium in the bathroom and called Sydney to warn her. By the time she found out, it was too late. They fought through the entire apartment and now Francie's dead in the bedroom, three bullet holes to her torso." Until then, his voice had been mechanical, his words a spouting of facts. Now- now he paused, unable to voice the words that would be the birth of his fears.

Kendall paused, understanding the implication but unable to circumvent the question. "And Agent Bristow?"

He swallowed heavily.

"She's gone."

****

TBC…

You know the drill—thanks for any feedback~ sorry for those of you who wanted this chapter to be a direct continuation of the preceding one but I'll get there. I promise.

I just thought I'd fill in some of the gaps. 

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For those of you who are waiting for updates for my other fics. _::blushes with embarrassment at the long wait::…_here's what I'm planning for the next lineup of updates:

**Remembrance chapter 5 Vivian Heights chapter 5 **_(I'm revamping this one so that it is also Post "The Telling" but will be a VERY different storyline… Guess who Vaughn's married too?) _**A Lesson in Humility chapter 5 **

Hopefully I'll get around to other older fics once Gracie is sufficiently rested; until then, I'll try to keep this one coming strong. 

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An Undefinable Sweetness is complete! It's like the end of an era! (For me at least.)

I'm blabbing.

Leave me love,

~Jenn


	3. Blood Splatters

**The Way it Should Be**

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Title: The Way It Should Be

Author: Jennifer

            e-mail: aliaswriter@hotmail.com

            AIM: aivilo313

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Post "The Telling" – begins a couple of minutes before the ending of the season finale and serves to release the angst and anguish that I am feeling over the fact that Vaughn is "married"- - please note that my words that are spilling out into this ultimately S/V story does not necessarily reflect my thoughts on what will occur in the next season.

Spoilers: All of Seasons One, Season Two, and whatever flashbacks that may pop into my head related to those seasons. (Obviously until "The Telling")

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3.

He was not surprised when he saw the first stretcher being lifted into the ambulance that waited in the driveway but felt a little thrill of terror when he saw the second. He raced towards the man overseeing the process, his heart somehow drumming within his ribcage telling him that he had made some sort of mistake, that he had been an idiot not to check the entire house because of his supposed gut instincts. 

Sydney must have been in one of the other rooms, must have been too weak to call out his name. Or… the thought froze him as he realized the sheets on both the stretchers covered the bodies of the people it held. Standing in the middle of the yard, his head shook the word 'no' because his mind would not mouth it. Sydney couldn't be dead- she couldn't have left him, it was impossible because she was much too alive to ever die-

Despite all his worrying when she was on her missions, he had always believed, deep in a part of his heart that he never told of to anyone, that she was somehow immortal.

He turned to the officer, standing there. "Is she dead?"

The man turned to him with a quizzical look on his face. "I was told that you were the one who had found her, Agent Vaughn. Yes, she is."

His heart plummeted to the ground, was swallowed up entirely by the horror that swept his body and throttled him. "Oh my God, Sydney, oh my God."

He realized that the man hadn't stopped talking. "He's alive though." 

Vaughn's ears perked. "_He?"___

"Yeah, the other stretcher, the one that was in the bathtub." Vaughn didn't know how to feel; he strode towards the other stretcher and gingerly lifted the sheets. 

Will.  
  
His lying there provoked feelings that Vaughn hadn't known that he had towards the other man. He had known the feelings of jealousy that coursed through his veins when he saw him with Sydney and admiration for his knowledge and skill but- this kind of sadness was new.

He turned and saw Jack standing behind him. "He was in the bathtub?"

"Yes. Sloane's idea of a sick joke I suppose." 

Vaughn nodded helplessly before turning back. Realizing now that the "she" the officer had referred to was Francie, new resolve began to form within him. "Has the CIA ordered all the surveillance from the traffic cameras? Posted more warnings? The spot where Sydney was was still warm when I touched it. They had to have left a couple minutes at the most before I came."

Jack nodded. "I've ordered all the footage already and we have 14 analysts that we've pulled away from other assignments working on what we have."

Vaughn turned and saw that he was right. Every light in the apartment was lit though the light seemed more intrusive than it had ever been. He saw the shadows of the men and women walking back and forth, retracing the fight scene, scanning the provacillium, checking for DNA or further struggle—

He couldn't take it anymore and strode into the house. At least three people hunched over the spot where Sydney's body had been, dusting and lighting; when the lights were turned off and the black lights activated, the various blood spots stood out in a million tiny polka dots that made him feel sick to his stomach. 

There was a tentative tap on his shoulder and Michael turned to see Marshall standing behind him.

"Yes Marshall?" Knowing how his mind worked, Vaughn couldn't help but feel that Marshall had to have something to lift his spirits up, that he must have somehow come up with some ingenious way of finding her. 

"Mr. Vaughn- er Michael, I managed to pinpoint the time that she was taken."

Vaughn's eyebrows raised. "What? How could you do that?" It was impossible wasn't it, to pinpoint a time?

Marshall blushed with embarrassment, "Well, it's not perfect but I think that I have it to correct give or take three minutes."

Michael nodded. "And?"

Marshall led him to the spot where Francie had been lying when Vaughn entered the room. "Francie was here, shot from, as far as I can tell, where Sydney was lying on the other side of the room which can be confirmed by the amount of debris and the size of the bullet holes. After she fell, Sydney must have passed out." Michael nodded.

"Well, assuming that Francie's body temperature stayed at 98.6 because you know, that's the normal human body temperature and- of course you know this, everyone knows that because it's…just something that everyone would know but what I'm trying to say is – Wow I'm sweating now, I shouldn't be so nervous-. Anyway, my point is that as soon as we arrived, I took Francie's temperature and took it just now as she was being loaded into the ambulance. There was a difference of 5.7 degrees within in a span of 25 minutes."

He forced himself to concentrate. 

"Using a simple temperature equation, a x b^x +c, c being the ambient temperature of the room which I saw was 78 degrees, Fahrenheit of course because it would be a sauna if it was 78 Celsius…more than a sauna- I don't really know, I have enough body fat so I don't need to go to saunas- ahem-, it's a very nice temperature I mean, I was able to make the equation to find out the base or the "b". Once I had the base, I solved for 98.6 which told me approximately how long she had been dead; now look at this."

Marshall began to calm down as he crouched towards the floor, motioning impatiently for Vaughn to follow suit. 

The glowing blue dot that indicated a blood spatter was the focus of his attention and, seeming from nowhere, Marshall pulled out a magnifying glass and poised it over the dot. "Look at the way this drop spattered. That sort of pattern doesn't come from a drop of blood merely falling. See the way the edges on the left side reach out farther? That indicates that Sydney was being dragged out carried out-" Marshall pointed right at the open door. 

"Bingo."

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"I want the surveillance feeds from every camera within a 50 mile radius." Vaughn's voice was strained with the tangled emotions of love and desperation; a combination that no one thought to mess with. The people in front of him merely nodded and went about their way to contact the necessary people. 

As he looked around, he saw that he was now standing alone in the yard. The frenzy that had encompassed him had now moved to a separate location and he was left alone.

_God __Sydney__… where are you?_

He closed his eyes and let the breeze swim past him and engulf him in its utter coldness.

_Please be safe. I'll find you._

**TBC…**

I know, I know, you guys are still waiting for the present section and Syd's reaction but I promise it will come!!!

This just needs to be said first (plus: You guys shouldn't be complaining too much seeing as how I'm not exactly leaving you to writhe in despair… I've been updating a chapter a day for goodness' sake! It's coming, it's coming!!! like 1-2 more chaps of flashbacks and you'll get your reaction… I'll make it up to you with a good S/V lovin' later)


	4. Icy Breeze

**The Way it Should Be**

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Title: The Way It Should Be

Author: Jennifer

            e-mail: aliaswriter@hotmail.com

            AIM: aivilo313

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Post "The Telling" – begins a couple of minutes before the ending of the season finale and serves to release the angst and anguish that I am feeling over the fact that Vaughn is "married"- - please note that my words that are spilling out into this ultimately S/V story does not necessarily reflect my thoughts on what will occur in the next season.

Spoilers: All of Seasons One, Season Two, and whatever flashbacks that may pop into my head related to those seasons. (Obviously until "The Telling")

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_Freebie: haha, you are a dork but I love that about you. Never complain about long reviews because they rock~ (I feel complimented that you found so much to say to me in the first place!)_

_Speedy: Always love hearing from you partly because you make me laugh and partly because you raise my self-esteem so damn much. _

_            Same to you Secret Agent Girl and Dream Writer 4 Life~_

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4.

The muffled voices became clearer as her eyes slid slowly open, her vision also clearing as she raised her head weakly, feeling every single bruise on her body. Francie's double had been a more-than-competent fighter.

At the thought, her eyes closed again in silent anguish. _I killed her. I killed my best friend. She knew that it wasn't truly true, that it had been another person behind the mask of her loving friend's face but the image of the holes appearing on her torso was more than etched in her mind. She had been holding the gun; she was the one who had pulled the trigger._

"She's waking up."

In the far reaches of her mind, she knew that somehow Sloane was in the car or at least was involved in this but was unable to think about it much more.

She couldn't stifle a small groan as the floor of the van shook as it flew over a speed bump.

"Put her back to sleep." That voice… it was so familiar.

She cried out as an elbow came crashing to her head, leaving her with only darkness.

~:~

Vaughn sat at his desk in the dark office, his face buried in his hands and his fingers twisted deeply into his hair. How could this have happened? Why now, now when life had seemed so perfect? Right when he had found the only person he had ever truly loved- that's right, he could now acknowledge that he loved her- was taken from him in a most brutal way.

The only light that shone in the engulfing blackness of the office was from the little lamp that stood on his own desk, illuminating the pieces of paper lying on the table top; the information that they had garnered in the last hour… she had been missing from his life for an hour now and with every minute, he knew that her chances of life were fast receding.

He refused to believe it. It couldn't happen, she was much too resilient to die on him. She would survive anything. She had to. 

He opened his tired eyes once again, blinking twice to rid himself of the black dots that hovered in his vision. He could feel the tears threatening to come back to him, knew that he wouldn't dare close his eyes again. Her face haunted him when he did so.

There was a sound of the door opening and then footsteps moving towards him.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Where else would I be, Eric?" Vaughn's voice was edgy with tiredness and infinite sadness. "All I can think about is that if I had only postponed that damned debrief… if only I had taken her with me- - we would be in Santa Barbara right now."

Saying the words was hard, it was the acknowledgement of what his own mistakes were and now they were voiced and out in the open. 

Eric sat heavily on the chair next to the table, looking down, his good humor vanished. "You're going to go to Santa Barbara, Mike. We'll find her. And you have to stop blaming yourself. You couldn't have known-"

"I couldn't have _known_? I was practically living with that cloned bitch!" He regretted turning on his friend almost immediately after the words were spat from his mouth. "I should have known… I should have protected her."

"Michael, you hadn't even met her before. If she was able to fool Sydney and Will for so long… there's no question as to how she was able to pull the wool over your eyes. She tricked everyone," Weiss laughed ironically, "we even had a protective detail assigned to her to protect her- from what? From herself? No one's at fault here."

His friend turned then, and in the dim light of the room, Eric saw the tears streaking their way down his cheeks. "She's gone, Eric." He turned away, ashamed, hiding his face with his hands, leaning back slightly in his chair. "We were going to go to Santa Barbara."

Eric didn't know what to say. All he could do was repeat his words. "We're gonna find her, Mike. Don't worry, she's valuable to all of us."

"She's not _just_ valuable to me Eric. I- I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to live without her now that I've known what it's like to be loved by her, to wake up next to her- - how can any man go back to the dismal life he used to live after _that?"_

Eric didn't know how to respond. "You should go home and get some sleep- you'll be much more helpful to us if you're rested."

He stood up. "No, I can't go to sleep. Even if I went home, I would just be restless. You know how I get when Sydney's not home, Eric."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. I know."

He watched his friend's receding back as he strode out into the dark. "I'm going to pier if you need me. I need to get some fresh air."

~:~  
  


The icy breeze was refreshing to him, it made him feel sure that he was alive… for what feeling could slice through someone so thoroughly if it wasn't real? He held on tightly to the wooden rail, allowing himself to feel every prick of the uneven wood press into his hands. 

He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and stared at it, staring at it to give him some answers. But none came.

The shrill ringing of his phone cut through the air and he picked it up in an almost frenzy.

"Hello?"

"Agent Vaughn, this is Jack. I need you to come here right now." Vaughn nodded, instinctively knowing where "here" was as he strode to his car in a half-run and crammed his key into the ignition. This had to be a good sign; surely there were going to find Sydney. They had to.

~:~  
  


He spread out the pictures on the table and waited for Agent Vaughn to enter the warehouse. Ten minutes later, the door opened and he entered in a harried state and walked jerkily over to him. "What is it?"

Jack pointed to the picture taken from the traffic camera. A black SUV was caught; the driver of the automobile a scared-looking white male in his mid 50s. There were no license plates.

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with Sydney's case?" Vaughn looked closely at the pictures again, trying to see what Jack had seen and what seemed so elusive to him. 

Jack pulled out a file from his briefcase and opened it, showing a picture of the same driver. "Morris Saint-Clair. His wife filed a missing persons report a week and a half ago."

"He was kidnapped? Why would someone kidnap him?"

"We don't know yet. He was a professional chauffeur and our best bet right now is that he was taken because he was both helpful and dispensable. Anyway, we have good reason to believe that Sydney is in this car; this SUV passed the traffic lights at Monroe and Wilshire 35 minutes ago. We've circulated descriptions to every hotel, motel, and B&B as well as all police stations and even some gas stations."

Michael nodded, shaking his head slightly to clear his thinking. "Wait, how do we know that Sydney is in this car?"

Jack pointed to the next picture, a blow-up of the first which showed the window behind the driver of the car. There was a smudged handprint on it, as if a person had struggled and had smacked the window during the fight. 

A third picture was yet another computer-generated augmentation of the handprint. Pulling out his laptop, Jack expertly scanned the picture onto it and typed a few keywords to bring up the CIA directory service. The only clear fingerprint was placed in the search query as hundreds of faces and profiles were scanned through the program until a match was found.

Sydney Bristow.

"Monroe and Wilson? Where does that road head?"

"It's a local road with 6 different breaks. One of which is a freeway." Jack stopped talking and looked at the younger man. "Agent Vaughn, I'm aware that we have had our differences but I also know that we both have Sydney's best interests at heart and I want you to know that I thoroughly trust you to help me with this investigation. But, please allow me to say that you look like hell. Go to sleep."

Vaughn cracked a small smile that didn't mean anything. "I can't sleep."

Jack nodded. "I thought as much."

96 miles away, an unidentified black SUV cruised along the freeway with a full tank of gas, a picnic basket of supplies, and 4 passengers.

**TBC…**

Hmmm…this story is cookin'- I haven't updated one story so often ever since the early days of An Undefinable Sweetness… hope you all enjoy it so far, the ideas haven't run out yet and Gracie obviously feels very bad for leaving me for those two weeks and is making it up right now.

Look forward to some flashbacks within flashbacks because you guys all know how much I love making up S/V moments~

I'm thinking that the return to the present tense will be one of the later chapters and that the backstory of what occurred to Vaughn and how the investigation will be the main portion of the story for a couple of chapters to come. Then we will go back to Sydney's response and Vaughn's explanation (which I hope is not too unrealistic), and then we'll go forward until then.

Hope this fic is helping to alleviate at least SOME of the ALIAS madness!

Love you all! (keep the feedback coming, it totally makes my day!)

~Jenn


	5. Memorize this Fingerprint

**The Way it Should Be**

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Title: The Way It Should Be

Author: Jennifer

            e-mail: aliaswriter@hotmail.com

            AIM: aivilo313

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Post "The Telling" – begins a couple of minutes before the ending of the season finale and serves to release the angst and anguish that I am feeling over the fact that Vaughn is "married"- - please note that my words that are spilling out into this ultimately S/V story does not necessarily reflect my thoughts on what will occur in the next season.

Spoilers: All of Seasons One, Season Two, and whatever flashbacks that may pop into my head related to those seasons. (Obviously until "The Telling")

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_Speedy: if only I'd thought of that 94 is double 47 first…oh 2 well… it had to be 94 sometime right? God… I even analyzed page 47 of __Alice__ in Wonderland so don't even get me started on the Looking Glass Theory._

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5. 

The CIA received a phone call from a Holiday Inn 150 miles away at 3:30 in the morning, confirming the registration and the descriptions given. The black SUV parked in the lot had no license plates, the white male described matched the physicality of Morris Saint-Clair and two men had come in at a later time carrying a woman who they claimed to be drunk.

At 4, the teams were there in front of room 421, ready to relieve the suffering of all people who had believed her to be forever gone, especially that of Jack Bristow and Michael Vaughn. He had been the first to volunteer and grab a weapon and the second to jump into the van. He had already decided that somehow, he would never let her out of his sight again. At least not without the full knowledge of his love for her.

The door was unlocked but when the pushed it open, the room was empty. Except for the body that lay strewn across the sheets… Morris Saint-Clair had done his duty and had been disposed of.

The window overlooking the parking lot was wide open.

The black SUV was still there.

And they were out of leads; they knew that the fingerprints would give them no clues as to who the two men were for they would not have any true importance after she was taken to whatever destination she was headed for.

Jack was the only person who noticed that Vaughn kept his mask on and his suspicions of why he would do so were confirmed when he saw the sparkle of a tear glisten in the moonlight. 

_End Flashback_

Sydney stopped and sat still on the mattress, not daring to look up lest his statement had only been heard by her ears and not really uttered at all. She stared at her hands with a ferocity that seemed to make the whole world still. "What?"

From her peripheral vision, she saw Vaughn's hand waver above hers before it pulled back again. "Syd… will you look at me?"

She wanted to, but was afraid of the tears that were already threatening to spill over her eyelids and she was afraid of crying in front of a man who had turned into a stranger mere minutes before. She shook her head and he understood. He hooked a finger under her chin to lift her face up to his and she closed her eyes in surrender and anguish. 

Her face still brought a chill over his body, still amazed him at how this resilient and utterly strong woman could in the same instant look so fragile and breakable. He brought his lips to her foreheads, pressing them slightly, reveling in the feeling of his skin against hers, a feeling he had been deprived of for too long. 

His lips ended next to her ear and his whisper sent hot breath cascading into her senses with an air of complete assurance. "Sydney, I'm not married."

If her eyes hadn't been closed already, they would have been by now for there would have been no way she would have been able to not close her eyes at the utter sensuality of his breath so close to her. And though she did not remember the years lost nor the time passed, she knew sharply how much her body had missed him and knew from that that what he had said was true. It had been too long. 

Her fingers lightly traced his, trying to ingrain their texture into her mind so that she could carry his fingerprints around with her always but they came across his ring once again. 

She pulled away, noticing his slightly surprised expression. She believed him… she did. But she still didn't understand. 

His hand held onto hers, giving her a warmth and a strength that she missed so much that her heart ached within her and all she wanted was to be enveloped into his arms once again. But the question had to be asked. 

"Vaughn… why are you wearing that ring?"

**TBC…**

Was it good for you? (lol, couldn't resist). 

Well, you got her reaction but I tapered it off with a tiny not-really-cliffy-cliff so that you might maintain your interest with the story. 

His explanation along with a few more chaps w/ flashbacks and the like are coming up next so I hope you like those too and are looking forward to reading more because that is what I'm aiming for~

Thank you so much for all your reviews, they make my day. They really do.

~Jenn


	6. Staring at Nothingness

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The Way It Should Be

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Sorry about the lack of updates for this story… it really hasn't been that long but it seems that way because I was on a roll with this one for awhile. Don't worry, I still am. I'm merely being more considerate to my other fics ;)

Check out my latest updates:

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Far From Home

Remembrance

Vivian Heights

An Undefinable Sweetness (now complete)

The End of Patience (now complete)

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6.

0 Flashback 0

Three months. Three months since the night I came into your apartment ready to take you on our first vacation. Three months since I walked into your house and found everything destroyed.

Three months since I found nearly everything I have been looking for except for you. Where are you?

There are still people working on the case but the numbers are fewer everyday. Some people are beginning to lose hope and others... others have lost hope long ago. Every day that passes increases the chances that she is dead somewhere. If there were some ransom or ultimatum... there is no doubt that it would be paid. But there have been no demands. And it is for this reason that Michael suffers.

~:~

The phone rang on the stand next to him and he jumped slightly at the sound, wondering, as he always did, if he was stupid to be hoping against all hope that her voice would come out on the other side and tell him... tell him anything really. That she needed him, that she was waiting for him, that she wanted him. That she loved him. 

But the thick silence had so far been unbroken and, though he would never yet admit to anyone, doubt was beginning to insinuate itself into his mind. But his heart was still strong and he knew that the feelings that he was still experiencing had to mean that she was alive somewhere. If she was dead or hurt, he would know. There was no other explanation for this; he merely knew deep inside of himself that he would know if anything ever happened to her.

So the hope sprang up once more when the phone rang and he picked it up almost eagerly though a trace of reluctance could also be traced in his actions. He knew that his prayers would most likely remain unanswered and killing one's hope is always a painful thing to do.

And it died a little once again as Eric's voice came over the phone.

"What are you doing man?" As always, the voice was strained with an attempt at being jovial though there was the ever-present twinge of worry and concern that had been there ever since Sydney's disappearance.

Vaughn sighed, knowing that Eric at least deserved the illusion that he was fine. "I'm good. I'm watching hockey, drinking a beer, and there's a naked woman waiting in the bedroom."

There was a silence. It had been his first joke about moving on… and he felt nauseous.

Eric's voice was low when the answer came back over the phone. "Don't bullshit me, Mike," he paused, not knowing whether he should urge his friend to move on or keep on fostering the hope that Sydney was still out there somewhere. It had only been three months… "Want to come out with me?"

Michael sighed, rubbing his temple. It was the three-month anniversary of Sydney's disappearance. What he wanted was to get drunk and sit in one position for a very long time. Maybe it was the hope that life would truly pass him by. And he would remain, waiting for Sydney to find _him_. 

He stared at the blank screen of the television.

"I told you that I'm watching hockey."

Eric laughed. "Mike, I know you more than anyone and I know you know hockey more than anyone. It's not even hockey season."

"I could be watching hockey."

"But it's much more likely that you're sitting on some very hard chair, blaming yourself while staring at nothingness."

Vaughn didn't answer.

"Michael…" his voice trailed off, making a decision that he still wasn't sure of, "I know that there is still a chance that Sydney's alive and we're doing all we can to find her. But it's been three months. We've been out of leads for awhile. And I think that you need to go ou-"

"Eric, it's only been _three_ months. There's no body. I'm not going to go to some bar and hit on some girl when _all I can think about is **her**._"

"You don't have to meet someone. I'm not saying that you have to meet someone. I don't even _want_ you to meet someone. I'm just saying that going out wouldn't be such a bad idea." His voice faltered, unsure of how to voice his thoughts. 

"Don't you know what today is?"

"Of course I do Mike. Don't you know? Do you really think you should be alone?"

Michael sighed, blinking back tears. "What if I was gone and she called-"

Eric took a breath over the phone. "Michael… I don't think she's going to call." After a moment of utter silence, he spoke again. "If she did have that chance, she would most likely call the CIA where she would know for sure someone could answer her. Trust her a little more."

Vaughn's voice cracked with suspended emotion. "I- I don't think I'm ready to leave the house quite yet."

"Then if you're going to get drunk, at least get drunk with me. We'll go to a bar and scream at the TV and I'll smack you if you start to reveal some government secrets."

He couldn't help the slight smirk that overcame his face as he nodded. "Okay. Okay. I'll get my coat and meet you outside."

"Okay. Good. There's hope for you after all."

Michael sighed, standing up and allowing his legs to stretch as he reached up and grabbed his coat, stopping for a minute at his desk where he took out a picture. It was a candid one, he had called her name while when she had come out of the bathroom. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were wide with response and anticipation. Wearing his shirt and still have the remnants of an aura begotten from sleep, she was beautiful. 

He traced the outline of her face with his finger, smoothing her cheeks in silent care and suffering.

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Sydney… come back to me. Please. I love you.

He placed it back in the drawer and walked outside to meet Eric.

****

TBC…

Want the next chapter? Tell me about it. Literally. ;)

Thanks for any/all reviews~ … Jenn


	7. Stay with Me, Wherever You Are

**The Way it Should Be**

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_Despite the fact that I am having a mental breakdown right now, I am writing the next chapter._

_I know that a lot of you are protesting about the ring but please believe me when I say that the flashbacks are there for a reason. The flashbacks themselves are going to answer the ring question and then Vaughn will answer it again talking to __Sydney__._

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**_7._**

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"Sangria please." Vaughn looked down at his crossed arms, realizing where he was and what exactly he was doing. And though there was a part of his mind that told him that he was doing this for the right reasons and that he should be at the point where he was able to come out of the house, he still couldn't suppress the pleading of his heart. 

Eric sat next to him, silent in his uncertainty of what to say.  Looking around the bar in order to do something to break the heavy uncomfortable silence, he froze and turned back, not knowing how to say it.

"Mike…"

Vaughn turned and looked at him. Without saying a word, he just looked at him, waiting for more words to come as he knew they eventually would. 

"There's a girl on the other end of the bar checking you out."

He had expected embarrassment, anger, maybe even a storming-out-of-the-room was appropriate given the situation. What Eric hadn't thought would happen was to see tears spring into his friends eyes.

_"There's a girl at the other end of the bar checking you out."_

_Michael raised his eyebrow with an unspoken question and __Sydney__ couldn't help but laugh at expression. Turning around, he saw the overweight, middle-aged women sitting in the corner, drowning her sorrows whilst giving him the eye.  _

_He shook his head as he turned back to her. "I really don't think you have to be worried about her, Syd."_

_"Who said I was worried? I just wanted to let you know that you are attractive. I mean any one who can get the attentions of a drunk woman…"_

_He stopped her with a kiss. "Syd… just don't speak anymore."_

_She placed a hand on his chin and turned it to the other corner where a curvy young blonde sat on a stool, holding a glass of wine in one hand and nonchalantly surveying the room. "And her?"_

_He turned back to her. "You don't have to worry about her either. The only face I'm interested in is-" he took a hold of her purse and rummaged in it until he found a compact. Opening it, he held it up to her face – "this one."_

_~End second flashback~_

Vaughn turned to look over his shoulder, vainly hoping that the woman would turn out to be Sydney…somehow… 

But it wasn't. It never was.

~_End Flashback~ _

"Sydney…" He gulped, wanting to say the right things, wanting to come up with some sort of magic word which would make the past two years disappear. He unsurely brought a hand up to her chin, resting his fingers under it, feeling how soft her skin was and how real she felt to him before he dropped his fingers, "You want to know why I'm wearing this ring. And I'm sorry for not answering yet but… God Sydney, I thought I'd never be able to forget you –and I haven't- and it's just that it _always gets me how beautiful you are."_

She tried to stop the springing of tears in her eyes. 

"It should be illegal how beautiful, Sydney…" The tears were creeping up into his own eyes as he finally felt reality beginning to sink in. "This really is you, isn't it? I'm not going to wake up and realize that I'm alone again?"

She was still for a moment, waiting, before nodding. 

And he fell against her, hugging her tightly to him in a grip that she had never felt before. His desperation and relief mingled into a single entity and she felt herself being held with a love that she had never before felt. And she felt the cool metal of the ring push itself into her hand as he disengaged from her. 

"Three months after you disappeared, Eric made me go to the bar. And… do you remember that time we went to the bar?"

She smiled a little tentatively, slowly beginning to realize and believe that he wasn't a possession of someone else. That it was possible that he might still belong to her… 

"Of course I remember Vaughn. That was… that was good."

He laughed. "Sydney, I was talking about the bar, not _after_ the bar. Anyway, Eric pointed out this girl that was looking at me and it reminded me of that time and… God Sydney, everything reminded me of you. Life was living hell and I don't even understand why I'm still alive today but I'm so glad that I am. I'm so thankful that you are here with me. Sydney… Sydney, God I'm so glad."

She brought a hand to his face, wanting to comfort him though she was still unsure of the situation.

"Every time I looked at something, I had a memory that we shared together… every time I saw something that we didn't share, I would think of how you would react. And I couldn't take it anymore. Every one was telling me to move on and I **couldn't.** How could I possibly move on and settle for _any_ body else after I found you? No one is as real as you are."

He stopped, the pain still poignant and obvious in his eyes… the relief hadn't yet sunk in and he was still reliving the last two years of being without her. 

She turned the ring towards the light and read it, knowing instinctively that there would be an inscription. 

_Stay with me and keep me with you. Wherever you are. You have my heart. Always. _

**TBC…**

Hmmm… so you kind of have the explanation. We'll go more deeply into it later. 


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